Page 41 of Regency Whispers: Scandalous Matches

‘This sounds intriguing.’

‘Mr Stewart is helping me, and I him. We have made a mutually agreeable deal. I assist him with his nephew, accompany them on a few days out, provide a little advice until his nanny from the agency arrives...’

‘And what do you get in return?’

Jane hesitated. Lucy knew that she drew and painted—they had shared a home for months and Jane would often cloister herself away in her room with her paintbrushes. What she had never confided to any of her friends was her ambition, her desire to see her work published, to try and make a living out of the stories she wrote and the pictures she painted to accompany them.

‘Have you ever wondered why I decided to come to London?’

‘Once or twice,’ Lucy admitted. ‘You never seemed that interested in the balls and the dinner parties and have expressed your reluctance to find a husband more than once.’

‘It is not an environment I feel comfortable in. I don’t have Eliza’s easy charm, or your amiable nature, or Charlotte’s good looks. I am not made to be a debutante.’

‘Did your parents push you into it?’

Jane shook her head. ‘No. Although they were delighted when I suggested I might approach Lady Mountjoy and see if she might consider me as one of her debutantes. With five younger sisters at home, I think they despair as to what might happen to us.’

‘So, why then?’

‘I wanted to come to London...’ She looked around and then lowered her voice. ‘I have a dream. Over the last few months I have been visiting publishers and printers to see if any might consider my work.’

‘Your painting?’ Lucy looked a little confused.

‘I write stories to go with them. Children’s stories.’

‘Jane, that is wonderful, but how have you kept it secret all this time?’

‘I didn’t know if there was something worth pursuing with it but, now I have nearly exhausted all of the publishers in London and none will even give me an audience, I am close to giving up.’

‘You can’t give up, not if this is something you’re passionate about.’ Lucy shook her head vehemently. ‘What I don’t understand is what this has to do with Mr Stewart and your deal with him.’

‘He caught me visiting one of the less desirable areas of London whilst I was searching for a publisher’s shop. He escorted me home and Lady Mountjoy now thinks there is something between us. We agreed to use that, to allow me some freedom from her match-making efforts, to give me more time to work on finding a publisher.’

‘That is quite a scheme, Jane,’ Lucy said, puffing out her cheeks as she sat back in her chair and considered all she had been told.

‘So you see, there really is not anything between me and Mr Stewart.’

‘I understand how this began,’ Lucy said slowly, dropping her voice as someone came and took one of the seats directly behind them. ‘But that does not mean feelings cannot develop.’

‘You’re as bad as Lady Mountjoy.’

‘Would it truly be that terrible if you were to fall in love?’

Jane closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the way his lips had felt on hers, the soaring of her heart as their bodies had come together. In those moment she had allowed herself to wonder, but it had been a short-lived fantasy both times.

‘Perhaps one day it might happen,’ Jane said, wishing the play would hurry up and start. ‘But Mr Stewart has a certain reputation. I am not one to believe every titbit of gossip that comes my way, but he is a very charming man, and I have no doubt he could have his choice of women.’

‘You’re putting yourself down again, Jane. You are marvellous. You are interesting and quick witted, you’re funny and a joy to be around. You’re talented and beautiful...’ Lucy stopped as Jane scoffed.

‘I am well aware of my talents and my shortcomings,’ Jane said quietly. ‘And I have made my peace with them.’

‘You are beautiful.’

She thought of the flare of attraction in Mr Stewart’s eyes, the way she had felt when she had seen desire in his expression. It was the first time in her life she had wondered if she was more than a plain young woman, the least desirable of the debutantes, the one always left to one side at the ball. She knew much of it was her perpetuating the cycle. She felt plain, so she dressed in a way not to draw attention to herself—that way she could pretend it was because she didn’t want anyone to notice her. It was a way of protecting herself.

Jane shook her head. She desperately wanted to confide in Lucy about the kisses, but she hadn’t been able to get the sequence of events straight in her own mind, let alone work out what any of it meant. Every time she thought of it, she felt something stir deep within her, a desire to be back in that moment, to enjoy again and again the kisses they had shared. Her only kisses. Then she thought of Mr Stewart’s reaction after the kiss in the park and she felt a deep embarrassment, as though she had somehow got everything so wrong. How could she crave another kiss when he seemed so aghast about the last?

Thankfully the hum of chatter in the theatre started to settle, the last few members of the audience took their seats and the curtain at the front of the stage began to move.